


make me whole again

by wethethousands (atlantisairlock)



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Nightmares, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/wethethousands
Summary: Jane has the same nightmare, almost every night.
Relationships: Rebekah Bosley/Jane Kano
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	make me whole again

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is miles' fault! and also astrid's because she's chief enabler. 
> 
> title from 'lost in you' by lena.

Jane opens her eyes and she’s back in the passenger seat of an Audi she knows like the back of her hand.

She’s holding a gun. Its weight is hefty in her arms. When she looks down at it, it seems to shift in her field of vision, turning hazy. It morphs, briefly, into a body, its face flashing past too quickly for her to identify, and then back into a gun. It’s so heavy, like she’s carrying the weight of the world. She can barely lift it out of the roof. When she pulls the trigger her reflexes are slow and the shots go wide.

Someone is coming after them. Faster and faster. The shots ricochet around her, slamming into the car, metal against metal. She breathes in and the air is ash. She can’t see who she’s shooting at or where they’re headed. All she knows is that they have to drive, they have to get as far away as they can - _take the shot, Jane, take him down_ \- if she just lands it, if she just gets one bullet where it needs to be, it’ll be okay -

The world roars by, shifting in and out of focus. Her mouth opens and words come out even as her mind is screaming for her not to say them. “Do a J-turn on my mark.”

“Ready,” a voice echoes in response. The car spins. Her finger is still on the trigger, the gun punching out bullet after bullet, far more than it should hold. What is she shooting at? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t - she _should,_ she knows, somewhere inside her, exactly where she is, exactly what’s happening, but it’s all distant, something she can’t seem to touch.

She sees blood, hears tyres puncturing, and someone says her name. When she turns her head it’s like moving through molasses.

“You shot me,” Edgar says. His mouth stretches uglily around the words, grating in a way she’s never heard him speak. His shirt is all red down one side. He raises a shaking hand, pointing accusingly in her direction. “You did this.”

Jane looks down and her hands are soaked with blood. She looks back up and Edgar is looming over her, face twisting and eyes fiery and he says it, over and over again - _you did this. You did this. YOU DID THIS, JANE KANO, YOU KILLED ME, JANE, IT WAS YOU, JANE, JANE, JANE, Jane, Jane? Jane? Baby, it’s okay, you’re having a nightmare, wake up for me, please, Jane -_

She shoots up with a strangled cry, her breaths coming short and shallow. It takes her a good minute to grasp where she is, to get a hold on reality again. It’s one in the morning, she’s in her bed, fists knotted in the sheets, sweating, with Bosley’s hand stroking gently down her back, steady and soothing. She’s right here. She’s right here.

“Nightmare?” She murmurs, keeping her voice low. Jane doesn’t bother suppressing her shudder, turning to bury her head against her shoulder and sobbing into her shirt. “It’s okay, darling, just let it out. It’s okay.” Bosley wraps her in an embrace, grounding her, and holds her until Jane manages to gain some control over her breathing again. Her voice trembles when she speaks. “S - sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Bosley hushes her and drops a light kiss to her forehead. “You don’t need to apologise.” She runs her knuckles very gently against the tear-tracks on her face. “Same nightmare?”

“Always,” Jane rasps. She’s been having sessions with Saint, working through the trauma, but they all know it’s going to take time - and she doesn’t think it’s ever going to leave her. It feels like she’s always going to close her eyes and see Edgar’s face, the way he touched his neck and his hand came away bloody. _Always._

Although that isn’t entirely true. Sometimes when she turns around she doesn’t see him and it’s not his voice. Sometimes when she turns around she sees blue eyes, blonde hair, two bullet wounds to the chest. Those nights, she cries harder when Bosley touches her, curls in on herself and cries until her chest feels hollow.

“Don’t leave me,” says Jane. She clings tighter, never wants to let go. She calms down faster when she wakes up to Bosley in her bed, breathes easier. Bosley reminds her of what’s real. Reminds her, just a little bit more, that she’s alive, and more importantly, that she deserves to be. With her there it feels like she can carry the weight of Edgar’s death and not crumble beneath it - like one day she can just keep the grief, and the love, and let the guilt go, and be okay with it.

“I’m here,” says Bosley. “I’m right here. We’re going to get through this together. Cry it out if you need, baby, I’ve got you, I promise. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. ”

She says it like she means it, and it’s the only way Jane knows she can start believing it. One step closer. Here. Safe. And not alone.

Jane opens her eyes and she’s alive.


End file.
